


Burning Fury

by Isaac_A_Drake



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Action/Adventure, Bodyswap, Fantasy, Guerrilla Warfare, Multi, World Domination
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:34:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24102943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isaac_A_Drake/pseuds/Isaac_A_Drake
Summary: Nahagliiv, the Burning Fury who Withers opposition, knew not how he awoke within the ritually desecrated body of one of those Hagraven worshipping savages after his presumed death at the hands of the Dovahkiin.But a slighted dragon was not one to kill a gift horse that could help him achieve his vengeance.
Kudos: 2





	1. Nah-Ag-Liiv

I awoke rather confused about how I was awaking anywhere.

The burning in my chest did nothing to assuage my worries, perhaps the Dovahkiin had somehow spared me planning to dominate me with his Thuum?

I was the burning fury that withers away all opposition, the arrogance to think that I would bow before death! 

Urk, speaking of burning...I brought a hand up to my chest and, wait hand? 

Finally I opened my eyes and looked down, at the body of a man. With a gaping bleeding hole in his chest where it appears one of those disgusting crones had replaced his heart with a Briar Heart. 

Filthy Daedric magic. But also, I reflected with the advanced mind of a Dovah, likely a ritual that had saved my eternal soul from the Dovahkiin. 

Hmm, I opened my mystical senses up to search out the nature of the magic upon this body. Reinforcement of health, stamina, ah and even Magicka, but not what I was searching for. 

I needed to see deeper, and for that I would need my Thuum. 

I swung my disgusting mortal legs off of the altar the body lay upon and 

“Yah Lah Fiik!” Seek, Magicka, Mirror. To seek the magic within oneself. My new throat burned with the power of the Thuum however and I coughed up blood. I would not be tossing my Voice around carelessly in this body it seemed. However I could now see and sense the magicka at work within my body.

Ah yes, there it was, broken now as the hagraven whom had begun the ritual was dead. Either at my flames or the Dovahkiin’s axe I knew not. 

A magical control mechanism to bind the will of the warrior to the crone. So powerful and complete that they would act like no better than a raging beast on a leash. Loss of all mental faculties beyond the focusing of a berserker rage.

Well I was in some manner of speaking, alive. A better prospect than I had had when the Dovahkiin struck me from the sky with the abominable Dragonrend shout. How that filthy Atmoran had learned such I could not know. I had been under impression from Alduin that it had been millennia since our passing and the Dovahkiin had shown no aptitude for it in his previous battles. 

He had laughed when we briefly spoke upon my resurrection, said that this final Dragonborn would be no trouble for any of our more powerful brethren, such as myself. Being struck from the sky and then falling to an onslaught of frost spells and an axe to the neck spoke differently of course. 

But here I was, trapped within putrid mortal flesh, but alive for now. 

I could work with this, mine was the fury that burns and withers, but fury can be focused, and I would build power within this new body and have my Nahkriin, my vengeance. 

The cave system I was in appeared to be some collapsed ruins, almost ironic, the ruins seemed decrepit and centuries old, and yet they were in some style that had come about likely an entire era after my original passing. 

Examining the area I found the corpses of a hagraven and one of these savages. Both scorched but not to the point where they would have had an immediate death. 

Hmm...yes, looking around it appeared they had attempted to barricade an entrance to this area from the Dovahkiin as they fled the collateral damage of our battle. I had actually been making strafing passes of the camp with my fire breath before the Dovahkiin took me by surprise.

My goal had been to terrorize and subjugate the surrounding area and then move on to take a nearby village under my domination, but quite obviously that disgusting Atmoran had ruined that. 

I decided scavenging the area for what I could would be my best bet.

I was...tentatively surprised in a pleasant way by what I found. 

The bone and hide armor of the savages was only slightly better than nothing, but I would have to make do.

The real treasure was an old but not as ancient as I Atmoran-styled blade which was obviously enchanted for at least durability. It had some mannish runes scribed upon it. 

And upon the finger of the hagraven was a golden three-banded ring with two emeralds set within, it significantly boosted my magical power upon wearing it. 

“Fascinating what these mortals do with magicka,” I commented to myself as I scavenged up a hide satchel and some soul gems the hagraven must have kept around. 

“The Dragon Priests always were useful for creating trinkets such as these,” I paused to think to myself.

“Ah, yes, there is an idea. These savages are somewhat similar to our thralls before we took them under wing. Perhaps I could...it may even be simpler with this mortal body to subjugate such a scattered and uncivilized people. I need to find a way to use mortal magics before I proceed on that end, without full access to my Thuum I am crippled,” I took a few practice swings with the blade I had found and grimaced. And also perhaps figure out how to use this body in combat. 

I am the burning, withering fury. And this land would bend to my wrath. And then so too would the Dovahkiin.

“Ha!” I burst out a laugh, perhaps the Dovahkiin would actually defeat Alduin. In a way I somewhat hoped he would. Trapped in this mortal body I would not be surviving any world eating that may occur. 

And would that not make vengeance all the sweeter? To slay the Dovahkiin and steal all his power just after his very moment of triumph? Stealing the sweet taste of victory from his lips? 

This land would bow before Nahagliiv. The fury which burns and withers away opposition.


	2. Sahlo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sometimes to develop a skill you need to experiment, branch out, and try new things. That’s what this is. An experiment developing undeveloped characters and factions.

This body was contemptuously weak. 

Oh it could break a normal Joor, mortal, in half with its bare hands. I had snapped the neck of a deer for dinner just the previous eve. Luckily only the first word of the Fire Breath shout was needed to start a campfire. 

But it could not fly, it could not crush armies beneath its talons, it could only shout once every hour it seemed, and it constantly had to eat, shit, and sleep.

Pathetic. 

As a Dovah I was able to go days between meals, processed that meat much more efficiently, and my sleep was glorious and almost at will. 

Not the constant five hours a day this body needed. 

But I was bending it to my needs at least, the mountains west of my...birth location were a good place to adapt to this puny mortal form. I had been hunting with my bare hands and simply outrunning my prey so far, but I had been practicing with the mortal weapons between the frequent meals. 

The sword was slowly becoming a favored weapon, it felt as if I were using a talon once more. It helped that the blade itself was quite good, never dulling no matter how many times I sliced into a log with it or, embarrassingly enough, dropped it to the ground. 

The savage bow and arrows I had collected were less elegant and more frustrating for me. The eye sight and reaction time of this body was passable however, which aided in the endeavor of developing some marksmanship. 

Speaking of the senses this body had my head turned as I detected a far off sound of an elk releasing its death song.

I immediately crouched down and made my way towards the source of the sound. This mortal body also possessed agreeable amounts of balance now that I was used to being in control of it and I found it a simple task to quickly and silently cover the half mile between myself and the death cry.

Behind a holly tree I paused, able to get a good enough look at some mannish hunter down the hill butchering its kill. 

He was a bulkier man, likely of greater Atmoran descent than my current body, and was garbed in more sensible leathers, cloths, and a cloak. He also possessed a much simpler and more elegant looking bow. His travel pack also could possibly yield some interesting supplies.

I desired the clothing. I could not insinuate myself into civilized regions in this savage garb. And that was the only way I would ever be able to learn the new languages of this era. Oh sure the local, I believe it was called Nordic, was close enough to Atmoran that I could catch the underlying basic meaning of a statement, but any sort of larger context or subtlety was going to be lost upon me.

And that burned me up inside, I was a mighty and intelligent Dovah. Not some sniveling illiterate savage, the appearance of this body be damned. 

Hmm...even if I managed to shoot him with my...dubious archery skills that would ruin some of the clothing. No reason to go showing off with an arrow hole in the chest that I had stooped to banditry to gain the garb. 

That left me with really just one option, stealth. 

Well stealth and then my Thuum. 

If I got close enough to him the Elemental Fury shout should allow me to speed my sword arm up enough to get a relatively clean decapitation, little damage to the clothing that could not be explained away as animal blood. It was a pity that the majority of shouts that I knew were either completely useless or of limited use in this mortal form.

Truly Elemental Fury was the only one viable in this situation. Fire Breath certainly was not going to preserve the clothing. 

This plan of course went snout over arse when the hunter noticed me.

He turned around to grab something from his bag and froze, staring me straight in the eyes from twenty paces out.

I stared back. 

He screamed something vaguely incoherent in his Atmoran successor language. 

“Forsworn! You won’t take me here! Sovngarde or death!” He pulled a big jagged knife out, and having recognized something sounding like the Atmoran words for death and the afterlife I was halfway through drawing my blade as well.

What followed was perhaps slightly embarrassing. My first stroke with my sword completely missed the burly man by a wide margin and he had the audacity to try and slice my guts open.

Luckily his blade caught upon the weird jutting bone structures of the armor and that allowed me to use the deceptive strength of this body to bash my forehead into his nose sending him reeling back, dazed and bloodied.

“Su Grah!” The first two words of Elemental Fury allowed me to sweep my sword back around faster than the man could respond. My blade took his neck just below where his beard fell to and the speed and force behind the blow took it off completely and sent it soaring a good twenty paces into the distance. 

“Puny mortal,” I taunted the corpse as I looted his haversack. 

Hmm...some gold in a disc shape, some rations of some sort, various animal bits, and a horker tusk. 

I was not too sure of the economic state of the current world, but it didn’t seem all that impressive.

But the sack had been a bonus, I stripped the corpse of its clothing and much improved bow and arrows and consolidated all I owned into his larger sack. 

Having successfully killed this man I decided my next step needed to be learning the modern language. 

His leather armor, cloak, and metal arrows would certainly go a long way in physical combat compared to the savage’s cast-offs. But if I was to conquer anything I would need to be able to command my thralls and subjects would I not? I would have to avoid larger settlements, even something the size of the village north of my death and rebirth would be dangerous. Perhaps I could ingratiate me to one of these groups of savages and grunt my way through until I developed fluency? Or at least comprehension. 

“Uggh, the indignity of it all,” I grumbled to myself. Stooping to grunts to communicate. To further cement the indignity of my situation my pathetic mortal stomach let out a grumble.

But at least there was fresh elk in front of me.


End file.
